Where the Blame Lies
by QuirkySmile
Summary: "You want to know why I'm like this? Take a good, long, look at yourself. My best friend poisoned me, and did nothing but watch as I slowly started dying. You did nothing." She said, and in that instant, I knew she was right. Everything was my own fault. No Slash! One use of the "d" word.


**MERRY CHRISTMAS! This is all you readers present from me, though...it's not a Christmas themed story...not in the slightest...**

**Disclaimer 1: Merlin, Morgana, and all other characters associated with the show do not belong to me. Though, I will attain the _ACTORS_ one of these days. **

**Disclaimer 2: I do not own the lyrics to "Down," or the band Thousand Foot Krutch. They just provided a tad bit of inspiration for this story. You don't have to listen to the song to understand the story, but it IS a pretty amazing song.**

**~QuirkySmile**

* * *

_"You wanna try to take me under? I'll never bow til I'm six feet under. Listen to the sound of the rolling thunder. You can't break me, you'll never take me down!" ~"Down" by Thousand Foot Krutch._

I heard the resounding smack before I felt it. My head flung back, and I was almost knocked off of my feet from the force. I teetered back and forth, before I was finally able to fully regain my balance.

I felt my mouth start to fill with warm liquid: blood.

"You will join me, Emrys," My name was spoken as if it were laced with poison; she spat the name in disgust.

"Never," I replied through clenched teeth, using just as much malice as she had. I felt some of my blood seep out of my mouth, and run down my chin, dripping onto the floor. Her only response was a chuckle. Not filled with mirth or enjoyment, but it hung in the air: cold, empty, and lifeless.

"We'll see,"

From her point of view, I must have been a sight. She'd been trying to break me for over three months, and it took all of my willpower not to give in.

She'd resorted to all forms of torture, and I had the wounds, and everlasting scars, to prove it. Bruised, bloody; I doubted there was a piece of me that hadn't been cruelly altered to conform to her will.

Morgana slightly nodded to two of her men. They grabbed me by my shoulders, and forced me to my knees. I winced as I made contact with the cold, hard, stone floor.

Morgana crouched before me, and roughly grabbed me by the chin-forcing me to look her in the eye.

"You will tell me where they're hiding, and you will help me bring them back here."

I looked at her with blazing eyes, and spat in her face. My saliva was grotesquely mixed with my blood, thanks to the hard blow she had delivered to my face.

"Never," I repeated.

Morgana sneered and wiped the bloody mixture off her face, and turned away. "Take him back to the dungeons."

Her men roughly brought me to my feet, and drug me through the citadel. In the dungeons, they stopped before the coldest and clammiest of the cells.

One of the soldiers held me up right, and firmly in his grasp. The other delivered forceful blows to every inch of my body.

"You will learn to treat the Lady Morgana with respect, boy. She is your future queen," he hissed, before throwing me into the cell. I slammed into the wall, and weakly slid to the floor. My entire body screamed in pain, but I couldn't let them know. I couldn't show any signs of weakness; not to them.

As soon as their footsteps were far enough away, I broke down.

My shoulders shook so badly, and the vibration of my body jarring against the wall was beyond painful. My fingers grasped at my hair, tugging, but not enough to pull it out.

I opened my mouth to scream out the pain I felt, but no sound escaped my lips. It was almost unbearable. I wanted so badly to scream at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't. My body continued to shake, as I dropped my tear soaked face into the cradle of my hands.

My sobs were interrupted, as my stomach clench, and my body convulsed. I retched into the corner of my cell. My body expelled moldy bread, something that Morgana's men had force-fed me earlier in the day, among other contents I didn't care to think about. When I was done, I rested my head against the cool stone of the wall in relief.

I tried to stand up, but my knees were shaking so badly; it wasn't long before my legs gave out, and I crumpled back to the floor.

The smell of my sick was overwhelming; I couldn't stand the rancid odor any longer. I forced my arms to pull my body to the far side of the cell; as far away from the sign of my weakness as I could get.

There was complete silence, only being occasionally interrupted by a hiccup from me: an after effect of my tears.

There was a tiny window at the top of my cell, and I watched as it was periodically filled with a flash of blinding light. The light was soon followed by the rolling rumble of thunder. The storm must've been extremely close, because, soon enough, the thunder would erupt instantly after I saw the lightening. The rumble caused the whole citadel to shake, and I could hear things falling around on the floor above my cell.

I don't know if it was from exhaustion, or from pain, but I eventually succumbed to the blissful serenity that was sleep.

*/\*

"Tell me where they are!" She demanded.

"No. I will never tell you, Morgana," I replied, as I had every time she demanded me to reveal their location.

"Do it," She told the man who was in charge of the lever. He pulled it down, and I let out a horrifying shriek.

Morgana only smiled with pleasure, "You know, I can make this all stop; I can make you feel better again." Her fingers ran lightly over the chains that were strapped to my feet.

I attempted to lunge at her, but was held back by the chains that were fastened to my wrists.

This seemed to please her extraordinarily; she nodded to the man again. He cranked the lever down one more notch. My arms were pulled further out of their sockets, as I was stretched out on the contraption.

"You see, Emrys – or do you prefer _Merlin_? – I never understood why Uther outlawed the use of the rack, but he would execute people without a second thought. Now, I know. Death would be a blessing compared to this torture, wouldn't it?" She chucked, as I glared daggers at her. My breaths were violently ragged, and I tried to control my anger. "Again."

I screamed, and was horrified as I felt a familiar tingle run through the course of my body.

The lever burst into a million splinters, as the force of my magic collided with it. The sensation receded, and I knew my eyes were slowly returning to their natural color.

Morgana's grin widened, "That's more like it."

"You will never get anything out of me. You can torture me, do whatever you want, but I will never tell you what you desire to know. I'll be dead in my grave before you'll ever be able to get under my skin, you cannot break me!" I vowed, putting as much vehemence into my words as I could.

"Oh, but that is the plan." I couldn't contain the startled look that crossed my face.

She let out a mirthless laugh, a habit I noticed she did frequently.

"Oh, this is priceless, it really is. You think you're actually important to me, don't you? You think that the longer you resist, the longer you'll live? No," She spat, "You mean nothing to me. You're worthless. Your king hasn't even tried to save you. He. Does. Not. Care. About. You. No one does."

She gripped the chains that held my hands, and lowered her face mere inches from mine,

"When you die, and if you don't give me the information I want before that, I can find a new mole like _that_!" She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point. "Though, the betrayal will hurt Arthur more if it came from you." She let go of the chains and stepped back.

"Why are you doing this, Morgana? What happened to you?"

For a brief moment, regret flashed through her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. She told the man to leave the room, and when he was gone, she replied, "Because I was hunted. My own _father_ persecuted those with magic, even after he learned that I, too, possessed the gift.

"What I want to know is why you're so loyal to them. They hunt you down. If Arthur knew about your magic, he'd have you killed in an instant. Yet, you remain by his side. You stand by as he murders your own people. In fact, you tried to kill me, just to save him." She paused a moment, and her voice broke as she continued,

"You want to know why I'm like this? Take a good, long, look at yourself. My best friend poisoned me, and did nothing but watch as I slowly started dying. _You did nothing_."

Tears started to build up, and spilled out of my eyes, "I-"

"Save it, Merlin. You had your chance with me. You had your chance, and you wasted it. You only proved to me that there is no one that I can trust." She waved her hands, and the chains broke apart. I fell from the rack to the blood stained floor.

I didn't want to imagine what agony the previous victims of this room had endured to leave behind such gruesome reminders. Physically, it has to of been so much worse than what I experienced, but mentally -they couldn't have experienced what I was feeling at that point.

Morgana looked down at me in disgust. She roughly kicked me in the side, to roll me over onto my back. She looked away,

"You have the night," She told the man, who was just outside the door. "If he isn't talking by morning, he lost his chance. I really don't give a damn what you do to him."

With that, she walked out of the cell. The man walked in, and chuckled maliciously. He picked up a tool from a nearby table. Its metal blade glinted in the torchlight.

"I'm going to enjoy this," He smiled as he advanced towards me.

The stinging hurt for only a moment, but a moment was all it took. The world turned black, and I fell into the warm pool of the blood the man had managed to draw from my body.

*/\*

"Merlin! Where are you?" A voice shouted out. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't figure out why.

*/\*

I heard the clashing of swords, and the clanking of armor, and a figure entered my room.

"Merlin, you have to wake up!" The person violently shook me, but my eyes wandered madly about the room, attempting to focus on something.

My world turned black once again.

*/\*

"Why isn't he waking up? It's been almost twelve hours." A voice demanded.

"Sire, he's suffered an extreme amount of blood loss, not to mention his other wounds. Once we get back to camp, I'll be able to properly treat him." Was that…Giaus?

I tried to say his name, but it only came out as a groan.

A dozen persons rushed towards me, but I faded back into unconsciousness before they reached me.

*/\*

I opened my eyes, and was instantly blinded by a sliver of intense sunlight. I looked around, trying to gain my bearings, but was at a complete loss as to where I was.

I attempted to sit up, but was firmly, but gently, held down by Giaus.

"You must stay in bed, my boy. You need much rest."

"Where am I?" I asked groggily, "What's going on?"

"You don't remember?" He asked anxiously.

But I did. In that instant, all of the events of the past three months came crashing back into my memory. I closed my eyes. Giaus must've though I'd gone back to sleep, because he questioned me no further.

*/\*

"What do you mean, he doesn't remember?" Arthur demanded. I opened my eyes, and stared blankly at the open door-flap of my tent; that's where Arthur's voice was coming from.

"I mean, he _may_ not remember. Judging from his physical appearance alone, she did some horrible things to him. Who knows what else she…tampered…with?"

"What do you mean by that, Giaus?"

"His _mind_, Sire."

There was silence for a moment, before Arthur spoke again. This time, he was much calmer, "Let me go talk to him."

When he pushed the door flap aside, I was blinded by a burst of light. It went back to semi-darkness, once Arthur fully entered the tent.

The king halted as he saw me staring at him, "Did you hear any of that?"

"Yes."

"Do you, um, what do you think?"

"She didn't mess with my mind, if that's what you want to know."

Arthur let out a sign of relief. "That's good. I was-"

I cut him off, "Why do you think she'd like this?" I asked emotionlessly.

"What do you mean?"

"Morgana. Why do you think she's like this? Why do you think she turned against Camelot?"

Arthur was startled, I could tell, "Because she hated my – our – father. In turn, she hates me, because I didn't immediately life the ban on magic."

"You're wrong. It's my fault." My voice was dead – uncaring. I didn't think there was anything I would ever care about again.

"No, Merlin, it's not. She betrayed us."

"No!" I don't know why I was yelling, "No, I betrayed her! I tried to kill her! _Kill her._ Arthur, I poisoned her. I betrayed her trust. When she needed me most, Arthur, I betrayed her."

Arthur stared at me in silence. I know he was trying to come up with something to say, but I didn't give him the chance.

I rolled over onto my side. I turned my back from my king.

*/\*

I had betrayed her. I made her who she was today.

But, I will fix it. No matter what it takes, I _will_ repair the damage I have done. I _will_ bring her back to us; _back to me._

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**What did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed reading it, I appreciate any feedback you have to give me.**

**Again, have a happy, safe, and wonderful Christmas!**


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